


(No) Strings Attached

by Mathmagician



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Light Angst, Lisboa, London, M/M, Mostly Fluff, Normal AU, Orchestra, Snowbaz is life, Street Musician, violin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 00:12:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13088376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mathmagician/pseuds/Mathmagician
Summary: Normal AU where Simon is travelling Europe in hopes of finding himself after his long-term relationship with Agatha ended and Baz is living in Portugal where he fled to after his father didn’t accept his sexuality. And then, by chance, they meet. And things don’t go exactly as they expected them to."I finish the song, thank everyone and start packing my violin to go back to the hotel, where I’m staying this last few days. Golden Curls is still there, watching me, even though everyone else has gone their ways. And I keep looking at him, hoping that he doesn’t go away before I can pick all my stuff and introduce myself to him.And then he comes to me."





	1. Lisboa

**Author's Note:**

> Hey babes! I’m back with my second fanfiction for this fandom and also the second here for AO3. I want to thank everyone who read my previous work and left nice comments and kudos. It made me really happy, and it makes me want to write more and more.  
> This one is slightly different from the previous one. It’s a Normal AU where I used an idea that has been in my mind for a long time. I don’t think I’ve read anything following this same idea, but if there is, I apologize. This started out completely different than it ended. I'll tell you the initial idea after the last chapter.  
> Either way, I hope you enjoy it. I know I enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> I just have a few remarks before beginning:
> 
> 1- These characters belong to the amazing Rainbow Rowell. I do not own any of them. 
> 
> 2- I’ve re-read all the chapters more than once, but English is not my native language so there might be mistakes. I apologize for them in advance. And feel free to correct them if you spot one that is really awful. 
> 
> 3- This was, just like the other fic, supposed to be only one-chapter long. But I figured it was too long and it kind of made sense splitting up. 
> 
>  
> 
> I hope you enjoy it. Feel free to leave any suggestions and constructive criticism!

_**SIMON:** _

 

It has been six months since Agatha broke up with me, and I fled London to find myself. We had been together since we were 15. She was my high school sweetheart and the woman I had always thought I would spend the rest of my life with. Although, deep down, both of us (and Penny, for that matter) knew that it wouldn’t really happen. There had been a time when we had truly loved each other, I think. But people grow up. And growing up, sometimes, means growing apart. That is probably why I wasn’t even surprised when she told me she couldn’t be with me anymore. I guess I had been thinking that as well and, sooner or later, one of us would snap, and end the phantom relationship we had been having for years. Still, I was glad it was her, because I don’t think I could have ever worked up the courage to break up _Simon and Agatha_. The couple voted ‘ _Most likely to end up together in 50 years’_  in our year-book.

It has been six months, and I have been travelling around Europe, completely alone for the first time in my life.  It has been nothing but a cathartic experience. I have met the most diverse people, made friends with the most unexpected people, travel with the most random people. But it has been six months, and Penny misses me as much as I miss her. It is time for me to come home, because I don’t think there is any more of myself to find out here. I guess the rest of it I must figure out back home, where all the memories are. Where all my life is, on hold, waiting for me to be ready. I am ready now.

Today, I arrive at the last place I will visit before flying back to London. We’re in the middle of the summer and I figured I wanted to go to a warm and sunny place, before coming back to my rainy city. And since I’ve travelled across all Europe, I guess it made sense to end my journey where Europe begins. Or ends, depending on how you want to see it. So, today, at six in the fucking morning, I am landing in Lisbon where I will be staying for a week.  

 

_**BAZ:** _

__

Lisboa has been good to me. Two years ago, when I decided to leave London and come here to escape my father and his refusal to accept me as I am, Lisboa opened her arms to me. Since then, she has been nothing but good to me. I came here alone, bringing only a few items of clothing, my phone to call Fiona and Mordelia, and my violin. I was utterly and completely alone and, yet, I never felt lonely. She has become my temporary home, Lisboa. That’s why I call it by her name. Because she gave me nothing but happiness and welcomed me like one of her own. I will always refer to her as one of her own as well.

Two years have gone by, though, and even if Lisboa will always feel like home, I have been feeling the need to go back to London for a while. That’s why I am leaving in less than a day. That, and also because Fiona threatened to come here and bring me back, even if that meant she had to bring me back in a body bag. I wouldn’t normally believe such threats, but it’s my aunt we’re talking about, and I don’t really want to test her.

I have been slowly saying goodbye to all the amazing things this city did for me. I quit my job at the hotel to be able to enjoy this last month feeling almost like when I got here the first time. I wanted to say goodbye to Lisboa the same way I greeted her, back then. That is why I have been playing my violin on the streets again. Because two years ago, when I arrived here, that was how I made my living. That was how I managed to save some money for the apartment I rented the moment I was able to leave the hostel. And for the suit I bought to wear to the interview at the hotel. That is why I decided to say goodbye to Lisboa with music. With the same music I once greeted her with.

 

_**SIMON:** _

 

Lisbon is the one of the most beautiful cities I have met throughout this journey to find myself. It’s only been a few days, and I have already fallen in love with this city. Lisbon breathes life. With its endless colours and its amazingly welcoming people. It’s both modern and aged, both new and old. Everywhere you go, there’s something beautiful where you least expect it. It’s hills all over, and even if it is exhausting as hell, the view when you get to the top of whatever hill you’re climbing now, it’s always worth it. The sun shines everywhere on this city, reaching every corner and filling the air with such warmness and happiness. Lisbon is alive. And I feel alive in Lisbon.

Today I had decided to walk downtown, close to the river, and watch the people go on with their lives. When I leave the metro station, I am instantly hit by the music. It feels almost like I just entered another dimension. And even though I was supposed to be walking towards the river, as this music hit me I started, unknowingly, walking to whoever it was that was producing such a beautiful piece. I am bewitched by the melody, so sad and sorrowful and, yet, so beautiful that almost feels like a goodbye.

I can see a crowd gathered around who I assume must be this musician, and I approach it to try and catch a glimpse of this person. As I get closer, I can understand, even though I am not much of a music expert, that they are playing the violin. I am enchanted. I close my eyes and simply let myself be taken by this person’s emotions that they play out so well.

I can see the musician, the most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes on, playing with his eyes closed, swaying his body to every note. His long fingers dance around with the long bow, as if it took him no effort at all to produce such beautiful sounds. He has sharp edges that are, at the same time, so soft, so gracious. All of him is gracious and, for the second time today, I feel bewitched. When he finishes the song, he opens his eyes and bows as a thank you. And then he looks directly at me, with grey eyes that are at the same time green and a little blue, and so deep and just want to swim in them, and smiles. And I am lost.

Then, he says something in Portuguese and starts packing his violin, shooting glances in my direction and smiling when he catches me staring. I suddenly feel the urge to talk to this person. To kiss this person. To sleep with this person. Because I have been alone for more than six months now. And because I feel like I should say a proper goodbye to this life I’ve been living and that I will soon have to abandon.

So, I do something I have never done before, which is totally in tune with everything I’ve done on this journey so far. With everything this trip represents. I do something new. I approach this stranger and I introduce myself.

 

_**BAZ:** _

 

As I am finishing my last performance, I spot the most beautiful man I have ever seen. He moves closer to me, squizing in between the people that were watching my performance, and stands there facing me, eyes closed and body swaying along to the music. He has this stupid smile on his face, and goddamn, he is _beautiful_. He reminds me of the ever shinning Lisboa’s sun, and that is one of my favourite things about this city. He has these crazy wild golden curls, and I wonder how weird am I to already want to pass my hands through them. His eyes are plain blue. Not sky blue, or ocean blue, or any kind of different blue. They’re just blue. Which makes them so beautiful, because ordinary things can also be stunning. And he is standing so close to me that I can see he has countless freckles and moles. A whole sky of them with endless constellations. It’s embarrassing how I am already dreaming of kissing every single one them.

I finish the song, thank everyone, and start packing my violin to go back to the hotel, where I’m staying this last few days. Golden Curls is still there, watching me, even though everyone else has gone their ways. And I keep looking at him, hoping that he doesn’t go away before I can pick all my stuff and introduce myself to him.

And then, he comes to me.

“Hey.” He says, grinning at me. I smile back, but cock an eyebrow, defying him to continue. “My name is Simon Snow. I am here at Lisbon visiting, and I just wanted to tell you that your music is beautiful.”

“Thanks.” I say, blushing slightly. It’s not like I haven’t been told that before. Of course I had. But maybe never by such a beautiful boy.

“I am Baz.”

“Look…” he says, looking at me with such intensity that I feel like I could almost melt to the floor “This is probably going to sound weird. And you’ll probably just want to run away. And you can, truly.” He looks down as if he is not sure how to proceed. And then looks back at me and continues, “I think you’re gorgeous and I am here alone, so I thought that maybe you’d like to come back to my hotel with me.” Well, this really was the last thing that I had expected. “Just tonight, no strings attached.” He adds. “There was really no way of it being with strings attached since I don’t live here, and you do. And you really don’t have to, but if you want to come with me, I would really like that and…” I cut him off. Because this beautiful boy just asked me if I wanted to spend the night with him, and how could I say no?

“Snow…” I say, looking at him smirking, trying to look less eager to leave with him than I really am. “Just shut it and take me to that hotel of yours.”

__

_**SIMON:** _

__

I wake up a little after lunch time and find out that Baz is already gone. I wasn’t really expecting to still find him here, considering it was a one-night kind of thing. But, as I was drifting off to sleep earlier this morning, I remember hoping that I could still see him when I woke up.

Last night was everything I had wanted it to be, and even more. First, because Baz was a fucking god in bed. After more than six months dealing with things on my own, it felt like heaven having someone to take care of me. And goddamn, did I choose well. And then, after we were exhausted, and sweaty, and breathing heavily, when I had asked him to stay and talk to me, he did. Although I enjoyed loneliness, I had been craving company for quite some time. And once again, I chose brilliantly.

We talked until dawn and I remember falling asleep holding him in my arms. We talked about everything and anything. I told him about my journey and everything I had been through these past months. I told him about my childhood, about Agatha, about Penny, and about my past life. I told him how I was getting back in less than a week, and how Lisboa, as he insisted with me to call this city, was the last place I would visit before coming home. I just never told him where home was, because I had promised him a one-time thing and it felt like breaking that promise. And he never asked.

I roll around the bed, burying my face in the pillow he slept on. It smells like sweat, sex, and cedar and bergamot. It smells like him. As all the pleasure of night before are coming back to me, I just know I must find him. I don’t know what I’ll say when I do, because he lives here, and I leave in less than a week, but I still what to find him. 

I spend the rest of my time in Lisboa looking for him. Everywhere I go, I search for the music. I go back to that street where I first saw him countless times, but he is never there. I search for him in every man with shoulder-length black hair I see from then on, but none of them is him.

When I leave Lisboa, a few days later, the sadness I feel is not only because of the end of this self-discovering trip. It’s also because I know I will never see Baz again.


	2. London

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another one for you lovely people.
> 
> I apologize if the music related matters make no sense. I don't know much about orchestras or music schools so I just googled it.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and have a wonderful day everyone!

_**BAZ:** _

__

Coming back home has been harder than I thought it would be. Two years later, it feels like everything changed, and yet it all remained the same. I have been here for nearly a month and I have seen every single member of my family except for my father. He still hasn’t worked up the courage to come to me and apologize for everything, and I won’t be the one to push it.

I have been living with Fiona while I look for a job and gather some money to start searching for a place. I found a part-time gig as a bartender at a super queer bar, and it pays the bills I split with my aunt, but at the end of the month there is not a penny left. So, I went back to playing my violin on the streets, just like I used to do when I first got to Lisboa, to earn a little more money for my savings.

It has been harder than I thought it would be. And it has also been particularly hard not to think about Simon Snow. My last night in Lisboa was everything I never thought it could be. Simon Snow was fire, and all my memories of that night burnt me from the inside out. I had been alone for so long I had forgotten what it was to touch someone else. And to be touched by someone else. And Snow touched me like I meant something, even though he made it clear from the start that it was one night only.

When I had gotten up to leave, he had asked me to stay. I did, and we spent the whole night talking about our lives. We talked about everything and nothing at all. I told him about my father, and how he had disinherited me because I am gay. I told him about fleeing to Lisboa because I couldn’t stand the thought that he wouldn’t accept his son because of who he decided to love. I told him about my aunt and my sister that I missed so much, and he laughed at all my stories about Fiona. I just didn’t tell him where it was that I had escaped from, and I didn’t tell him how I was coming back first thing in the morning. Because he wanted a one-night thing and I didn’t want to take that away from him. So, I never told him where I was headed. Or that I was headed back home. And he never asked.

We talked until dawn, and then he had fallen asleep in my arms, holding me as if I was something precious. And I don’t think I have ever regretted something as much as I regret never leaving my number.

 

_**SIMON:** _

 

It has been over two weeks since I got back, and today I start working again. Penny is thrilled to have me back home, even though Micah spent half the time I was gone here with her, and she spent the other half in America with him. However, I can see she has missed me. And I know I missed her like crazy, as well.

When I got here, I told her about that night in Lisboa. About Baz. Since then, she has spent the past couple of weeks crazily looking for him online. I don’t know what she expects me to do if she finds him, but I didn’t try to stop her because she’s Penny. I really couldn’t stop her, even if I wanted to. But it’s been over 2 weeks, and Baz hasn’t shown up in any social network. He either is 100% offline, or he lied to me about his name. Either way, I’ve given up hope of ever finding him again. That is, until today.

Today was my first day back at work, and it felt odd how everything remained unchanged even after being gone for 6 months. The same people on the same desks. The same gossip and the same stress. The same problems to be fixed, and the same way of fixing them. At the end of the day, I was already feeling like I had turned back time half a year ago. It felt as if nothing had really changed. And then, I got out of the building.

The minute I stepped outside, music filled the air. And it was no ordinary music. Again, I felt as if I had been put under a spell. Before I knew it, the music was taking me to the main street, the one I always avoided because of the insane amount of people walking in every direction. For the first time ever, it was quiet. Everyone gathered around a particular spot where a musician was playing this song so familiar to m. And I knew it was him. I couldn’t see him, but it had to be him. Since that night, more than a month ago, I dreamt about this song every single night. I dreamt about _him_ every night. And now he was here, and I didn’t know what to do. Now he was here, and it seemed so unlikely. He seemed to be someone from another time. From another life I had led around Europe. From the person I was everywhere but here. 

And, for some reason that to this day I still cannot explain, I turned back and walked away. By the time I got home, I was sure I was going to regret that decision my whole life. And yet, that scene repeated itself day after day. I felt bewitched by the music, but by the time I was close enough for Baz to see me, I chickened out and left. By the fifth day, I was sure it was him because I had seen the mouth I had kissed countless times that night, recognising it in between some random people’s heads. And everyday I felt like I was closer to finally walk up to him and greet him once again, but I never did.

And then, one day, the day I thought I finally had worked up the courage to go talk to him, once and for all, when I left my office, everything was quiet.

And my heart sunk.

Baz was gone. Again.

 

_**BAZ:** _

 

About two months after I started performing on the streets, a man approached me and invited me for an audition. It was only after I actually got to it that I realized that I was auditioning for a position in the London Symphony Orchestra. Apparently, it had really helped that I had been to the London Royal Academy of Music. However, it was the fact that one of their musicians tipped them off about me, after seeing one of my performances on the streets, that really sealed the deal. The audition had seemed to be some sort of protocol that they couldn’t avoid, but before I even started playing they had already told me the position was mine.

When I called Fiona to tell her I had gotten a job, she didn’t believe me. After I told her what the job was, she accused me of lying to her, and threatened to set my pants on fire. She actually sang  _liar, liar, pants on fire_  as a threat, which made me feel five again. It was only after I got her an invitation to my first performance that she realized I was telling her the truth. It was the first time, after the death of my mother, that I saw my aunt cry. I invited Mordelia too, and sent a couple of tickets to my house, inviting my father and Daphne, if they wanted to attend.

On the night of my first performance, all of them except for my father, were there. I could lie and say that I was fine with it, but I wasn’t. It hurt how much homophobia got the best of him. How could he be more embarrassed of his son because he was gay, than proud because he was a musician in one of the most famous orchestras in the world?

It hurt to think that my father could hate who I loved more than he could love me, but in a way, it was better that he wasn’t there. My performances had always been enhanced by strong emotions, and a hateful father brought nothing but that. Tonight had to be perfection, so in way his absence made more good than his presence would have.

As I got up on stage and took my place among the other violins, I saw a guy with golden curls next to a girl with crazy blue hair and thought of Simon Snow.

By the time the concert ended, however, when I looked back at where those two people were, I could no longer spot them. I must have been dreaming. They weren’t really there. What were the chances of Simon Snow living here, in London of all places, and of spending his Saturday evening watching the London Symphony Orchestra?

 

_**SIMON:** _

 

When I told Penny about Baz, and particularly about Baz being here in London, she went on a crazy demand looking for him. And, against all odds, she did find him. According to an online newspaper about classical music that Penny found, Baz is the newest acquisition of the London Symphony Orchestra, and he had his debut concert this weekend.

We also found out that his name is Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch, although he goes by Baz, as he told me, and that he studied in the Royal Academy of Music. He likes to read and sometimes writes poetry. After spending two years in Lisboa (he actually made them write it like that, no translation) he moved back two months ago and now lives with his best friend and crazy aunt , Fiona (his words).

Penny and I stood outside the back door, which all the musicians are supposed to use to leave the venue, according to Penny’s mom. Apparently, Mrs Bunce was really good friends with this Davy guy when she was young. He was now some sort of super important person at the Barbican. He was the one who got us the tickets and told us where to wait for the musicians. I only figured we were at the right place because a black-haired woman, who took too much resemblance to Baz not to be related to him, was there too, looking at the door. By the way she carried herself, I was sure it had to be Baz’s aunt Fiona, whose stories I heard that night back in Portugal.

I waited right outside the door and watched a bunch of musicians leave, with their instruments in their cases, before I spotted black hair. I gasped because he was even more beautiful than I remembered. He passed me by without noticing I was there, and began walking towards the car where Fiona, I assumed, was standing.  

I hadn’t really thought this through, because Baz hadn’t seen me and was now further away. I might not have another chance like this. So, I do something possibly stupid. I yell his name.

 

_**BAZ:** _

 

“BAZ!” I hear someone yell behind me. For a split second I’m taken back to that night, when a voice much too similar to the one that called me just now, moaned my name over and over while kissing me like it meant something. And then I turn around and I am positive I am either dreaming, or died and went to heaven, because Simon Snow is standing right before me. And goddamn he is even more beautiful than I remember. He is wearing a suit that feels both out of character, and also incredibly attractive even though it’s slightly dishevelled. And then he smiles a smile so bright I almost faint, and runs to me.

“How is this happening?” Is the first thing that slips my lips and his smile almost instantly disappears.

“Oh god, this was a mistake. I know what I said. And now I look like a stalker. But I saw you perform on the streets and I spent days and days avoiding talking to you because I thought this might happen and that you would think I was a creep and then you were gone and…”  He looks at me as if he expects me to have run away by now. And I really don’t understand why he is here, but I don’t even care. I am just glad he is. So, I stop him.

“Snow, please shut up.” I say, trying to make it sound as affectionate as I can. I fail because he looks at me with hurt spread all over his face and starts to back down. I grab his wrist to stop him from leaving. “How about you tell me this story of how we managed to end up in the same city over dinner?”

His face lights up with a bright smile and I can’t help but think of Lisboa’s sun all over again. And it feels like he is about to kiss me so I, of course, have to ruin it by saying: “Unless you’re still looking for a no strings attached thing, of course.”

“Shut up, Baz.” He says, playfully punching my shoulder. And then grabs me by the neck and kisses me. Probably to shut me up before I say something utterly stupid again. But I don’t complain and obviously kiss him back. Because ever since that night back at Lisboa, I have been dying to do this again. And, in this moment, I am sure he won’t mind the strings. And there will be many nights, not just the one he promised me that day. And I couldn’t be happier.


	3. One year Later

_**SIMON:** _

 

It’s been a week since the last time I saw Baz. He’s flown to New York to perform as a guest for the New York Philharmonic. I wanted to come along, but I really had no vacation days left, because of Penny. She’s getting married in September, and Baz and I are flying to the US for the wedding. It’s been both exciting, and incredibly sorrowful to watch Penny go.

It’s been about 5 months since she’s moved out to live with Micah. Despite me being happy to watch them start their lives together, it still made me sad that she left me all alone here. Well, not exactly alone, because by then I already had Baz as a constant in my life. But still, it was weird not to live with Penny anymore. The flat just seemed empty all the time, and I complained and complained until Baz practically began living here. It’s not official yet, but weeks go by without him ever sleeping at his aunt’s place once.

This was the first week in a long time that I’ve spent so many days alone here. And it sucks, I must say. I miss him. Waking up to an empty bed it’s just odd. Not being able to kiss him first thing in the morning is strange. And not having the sour cherry scones he bakes for me (Baz is a fucking incredible cook. It’s his cousin’s recipe and I love those scones almost as much as I love him. Almost.) just makes me angry (and hungry) every morning.

But it’s still a couple of days until he gets back, so I get home and skype with Penny, since Baz must be rehearsing right now. She picks up at the first ring.

“Hey Si! How are you?”

“Lonely.” I reply, and she makes a sad sound.

“It’s only two days until he gets there.” she says, “You can do it.”

“Yes, but you know how lonely London gets without either of you here. By the way, have you asked him yet?” Baz has been staying at Penny’s because they actually became really good friends and she missed him. And Penny wanted to ask Baz to perform at her wedding. She wanted him to be the one playing as she walked down the aisle. I knew he would obviously say yes, but she had her doubts.

“Oh, yes. He said yes, like you told me he would.” She replied grinning.

“I told you so. By the way, is he there now? I miss his stupid face.” I say, sighing. Even though I know he is not. It’s too early in New York City and tonight is his last concert, he is certainly rehearsing.

“He’s not, Si. Sorry.” She says. But she smiles, which is odd. It’s not something to smile about.

“Do you know what time he arrives? I might put an alarm to call him.”

“Oh my god, you’re so in love it’s almost disgusting.” She says, making her ‘oh my god stop being cute’ face. “I don’t know, babe. He should be arriving in an hour or so.”

“Really? I thought today was the last show.” She makes a panicked face. I don’t understand what is going on. Why does Penny look like she is lying to me? “What’s going on Pen?”

“Oh nothing. I guess I was just confused. The other days he’s been arriving after mid-night. Maybe then you can call him.” I sigh again. That’s really late, or early to be honest, here.

“Thanks Pen. I’ll try to be up. I have to go now. I’m going to stop by the Indian place down the street to grab something to eat. I’m too sad to cook”.

“Oh, don’t be a drama queen, Si.” She says disapprovingly, “He’s going to be back before you know it.”

And just as she says this, I hear the key turning and someone getting in. I look at Penny wide eyed. “Just go.” she says, smiling. And hangs up.

I just run to the door and see Baz standing there, big suitcase in one hand and violin case in the other, smiling at me. He drops the things on the floor and opens his arms. I jump to him.

“You lying little fucker!” I say, holding him close “You told me you’d only be here in two days!”

 “I know.” he says laughing and pulling back to look at me, “But surprise!” I hit him playfully on his shoulder and then kiss him. How did I get so lucky? I don’t even know, but I’m not going to argue.

“I’ve missed you.” he whispers to my lips. I don’t reply. I just grab him by the neck and kiss him again. And I can’t believe how after so much time it still gives me the butterflies. And fuck, I missed his kisses. I missed his warmth. I missed him. He kisses me hungrily, pushing back and pulling my hair, biting my lips until they’re swollen. We don’t even make it to the bedroom, the urgency to feel each other boiling up inside us.

We end up lying on the couch, exhausted and sweaty, just like that first night in Lisboa, after making up for the week apart. My head lays on his chest as he happily tells me about his week, and I tell him about mine. And I am so happy. He makes me so happy. And looking back at that first night, when his sweet sorrowful music bewitched me, and I followed it instead of going to the river as I had planned, I am so glad I chose Lisboa as my final stop. Because if I hadn’t, we wouldn’t be here now. And after finding happiness in myself, I am so glad I now get to share it with him. I hold him close and tell him how much I love him as he kisses me softly and promises he loves me too. I know I could not have asked for a more blissful moment than this. Right here, right now. I don’t think I have ever been happier.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the final chapter.  
> Fun fact everyone. When I first started to write this idea down, Baz was a street musician in London and Simon was, like here, bewitched by his music. And he watched Baz perform everyday, but never said anything. Until one day he left a note in his violin case, but when he ripped the paper out of his notebook, it went wrong, and his number was not there. Simon, obviously, oblivious as usual, didn’t realize it. And then Baz got into the orchestra and didn’t have the means to approach Simon. And then it went similar to what happened here.  
> Then when I re-read the fic I didn’t really like it, so I changed a lot and it turned into this. But some of the ideas remained, and the last chapter is pretty much the same. I just changed what needed to be changed to make sense with the rest of the story. 
> 
> I want to thank everyone who read this work and specially everyone who left kudos. It makes me really happy to know you enjoyed my writing. 
> 
> I hope you all have an amazing day.  
> Lots of Love.


End file.
